


Tunnel

by ancalime8301



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Claustrophobia, Gen, Inspired by Photography, Nightmares, Phobias, Prompt Fic, Watson's Woes July Writing Prompts 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:08:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25092868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ancalime8301/pseuds/ancalime8301
Summary: Watson is haunted by a recent experience.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10
Collections: Watson's Woes JWP Collection: 2020





	Tunnel

**Author's Note:**

> For JWP 05: Retro Picture Prompt: One of the most popular prompts of its year, take inspiration from this picture prompt from a previous JWP. https://ic.pics.livejournal.com/kcscribbler/15312842/112133/112133_original.jpg

The landscape was a monochrome gray, the jagged edges of boulders and crags the only feature until the hole came into view. The puncture in the hillside may have had a natural origin, but it was certainly enhanced by manual intervention, for the opening was too smooth to be entirely natural. A small light gleamed from the darkness and, combined with the shape of the opening, gave the impression of an eye, glaring balefully with unblinking focus, staring into his very soul as the walls closed in around him . . .

Watson woke with a gasp, sweating profusely. He had not known he was claustrophobic until that case two weeks ago and now that blasted tunnel haunted his sleep.

When they'd encountered the tunnel while tracking a suspect, Holmes attempted to traverse it to determine if their suspect had escaped that way. Holmes had made the trek without issue, of course, but as he'd followed, the walls seemed to close in on him until he felt he was being shut in a crypt. It took both Holmes and a constable to get him out again and the better part of an hour before he could breathe somewhat normally.

And the tunnel was a dead end, to boot; the light at the other end was small because the opening was little more than a slit and while there was space enough in the passageway for a man to take refuge, no one was there.

Watson sighed and rose from bed. It would take a while to distract himself from the vivid image and in the meanwhile he might as well do some reading or writing.

But he would never write about that particular case, that was for certain.


End file.
